


And Hey, You-

by thatonegreencat



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Post-Game, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short One Shot, Spoilers, Survivor Guilt, chapter 5 and 6 spoilers, headcanon heavy interpretations, i would tag more specifics but then it'd spoil the fic ending, it was 2am when i wrote this please don't hurt me, kinda OOC, kokichi gets to have freckles as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28023069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonegreencat/pseuds/thatonegreencat
Summary: Don't you think it's kinda cute?
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	And Hey, You-

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is an Arms Tonite inspired fic-  
> yes i'm a sucker for Mother Mother songs-  
> yes i know Arms Tonite is a very overused song-  
> live and let live. 
> 
> i swear it gets sweet at the end.

He couldn't help what had happened, no one could have except the one who had been hurt in the end; and yet he felt nothing but guilt, staring wide-eyed in horror at the frail boy in his arm, skin like porcelain- cracking. tears threatened to spill from moonish eyes, wanting to rain down onto their creator. 

A small hand reached up to his cheek, an arrow sunk deep into the shoulder that held the weak arm up, sickening magenta oozing from the wound and painting the arrow's shaft. The frail hand was cold- too cold, like someone had stuck ice to his cheek, not that the frigid unforgiving metal walls surrounding them were much of a help in heating them either. The boy he held pressed against his chest, and propping up most of what little weight he had, caressed the face he held; a shake in the hand showing a hidden truth his face failed to mimic. A snowy thumb pressed gently against the corner of a moonish eye, wiping away the tears that the much more alive of the two failed to notice had started to fall and stain a red face. Not that he felt alive- no, the boy against him might have been slowly dying, poison seeping into his already deathly frail frame- but the one who held him felt like he was dying too. 

_Their world was dead;_ outside was nothing more than a fiery hellscape, filled with toxic air that could cause someone's lungs to shrivel up and rot in a matter of seconds- not a soul out there dead or alive. _His world was dying;_ the one in his arms, the one he cared for the most, the one who stole his heart and ran away with it giggling like an innocent child- the one he never had the courage to admit was his world. His world looked up at him, slowly freezing over violet fields meeting horrified full moons, a sweet like honey smile dressed cracking lips as if there was still a spark left in the crumbling soul. He knew better than to trust the temptingly sweet honey, the mask may still be intact but the masquerader underneath was brinking on shattering. 

His warm hand reached down and clasped the small of a weak back, mentally cringing at the slick and sticky feeling of fresh blood from another arrow shot just a hand's length higher squishing and oozing between cupped fingers. He let the dying boy rest his head against his chest, burying the mask in black fabric. He could feel his whole body shake, legs starting to give out, The hand that remained desperate to stay up on his cheek trembling despite the other's best efforts to keep it still. It didn't take long for the holder to carefully bring them to the floor, the held sitting atop black cloaked legs, his head remaining against the warm chest. the dark, well kept cloth of one uniform contrasting the white, torn and tattered of the others- it felt like they had become that one old Chinese symbol, yin and yang, not that either paid much mind to mythos of any kind. He rested his head atop the other's, nose and cheeks to be tickled by wispy locks of midnight smoke- the action caused the weak hand to drop onto his shoulder, nails digging into the cloth and saving his shoulder from getting scratched up. 

His cheek felt damp- not both but just one, as if there had been something on the hand that held it he hadn't noticed before; the sensation of hair sticking to the area and dragging a liquid along with it when moved all but confirmed his suspicion. His own hand reached for the cheek, just to quickly check so he could return to his care for the smaller, but when fingertips met a sticky texture, he pulled back from resting against the other's head, fingers coated in the familiar sickly magenta that haunted him. Only now had he noticed the other had stopped shaking, _was he gone?_ looking down had been a mistake. 

A vile, _horrific_ sight had met moons; like sweat, the sickly familiar iron scented ooze seeped from his cracking porcelain skin, nearly every inch of his body looks as though it itself was becoming the magenta liquid, What milky white was visible was slowly being swallowed up by the oozy drippings. The sight was far more grotesque than words could describe, it made his stomach churn- made him feel like his own organs were attempting to invert themselves- he wanted to puke. A wry smile peeked up at him despite the vile liquid dripping off pale lips, twisted in pain but healed with the purpose of reassurance; it was as though he was mocking him for daring to worry about the one who he held. 

And it was- he dared care for, cry over, hold to the very end, the one he swore to- _the one he cursed to be alone forever-_ alone to the bitter end. Why was he even there? truth be told, the boy had stolen his heart, and now he was crushing it along with himself. 

He felt sick at the sound of the liquid magenta moving with the boy he healed as he heaved himself up so his ragged, dying breaths, huffed over a strained in fear ear- Moonish eyes held open in fear, every muscle in his body stiffened like rigid stone. The final words that he ever heard tore him apart starting from the inside out, just as they had to the other when he spoke them to him across an icy courtroom of lies. _Was this what dying felt like?_

_ "You're alone Saihara, and you always will be." _

**_...._ **

**_..._ **

**_.._ **

**_._ **

A fearful shout tore out of his throat, his torso shot up from the soft mattress it once laid on almost falling off in the process, the blankets thoroughly disturbed just as well. A groan of annoyance was heard next to him, The small frame sitting up from it's preferred resting position on it's stomach and flicking a bedside light on. As the taller of the two attempted to steady his breath, a soft, warm hand met his forearm, snapping him from his hazy trance. 

"is Shuichi-chan okay?" a soft pair of violet eyes, fogged over with sleep, looked up at him, the light framing their owner's familiar freckled face.

Shuichi felt a wave of guilt sweep over him at the sight "y-yeah, just had a n-n-nightmare" he took moment and swallowed nothing in attempts to steady his voice "s-sorry for waking you" 

"Was it _a_ nightmare, or _The_ nightmare" he asked with a slight waiver of concern laced in, as if ignoring the fact the other woke him up from the rare sleep he got. 

Shuichi sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his weary head against them and shutting his eyes " _the_ nightmare." a soft sigh was heard and the bed dipped closer to him, two limber yet strong arms wrapped themselves around him, scars from many different misadventures decorating the former porcelain. warm breath tickled Shuichi's exposed neck, the sensation far more calming than it had been in his dream. lips met skin in a soft pepper of kisses; each one carefully placed along his shoulder, neck, and the side of his face

"Shuichi, look at me a sec" the smaller commanded, the tone was sharp but had been far too sweetened by his actions to be feared. he lifted his head and peeked at the other, a healthy hand reaching out and sliding into place on his cheek- it was warm, comfortingly so. The shorter of the two pulled him closer as he himself leaned in, lips brushing and fitting together perfectly like a beautiful harmony. his thumb caressed Shuichi cheek, being careful as though he was a delicate sculpture, ready to shatter with just the wrong move. 

They pulled apart after a while, faces dusted with a faint blush- no matter how many times they'd do that, it always brought on a blush. Shuichi smiled softly at the other, cupping the hand on his face with his own. "Thank you Kokichi" Kokichi giggled fondly at Shuichi's words, leaning in and pressing more carefully placed kisses to his face. 

"I love my Shumai-" he paused to speak between his kisses "and i'm sorry those Danganronpa assholes fucked him up so bad" more kisses "and i'm sorry i let myself do wh-" 

Shuichi quickly cut Kokichi off "don't you dare start blaming yourself again, Blame Team Danganronpa all you want, but not yourself" 

"what? it is my fault though, It was my idea to die the way i did" Kokichi stubbornly countered, brows furrowing

Shuichi narrowed his eyes at the smaller boy, straightening his legs out and pulling him into his lap, both letting go of the taller's face to make the shift easier "we've been through this, it's not your fault, it's none of our faults" he kissed the other's cheek "any number of deaths could have ended up in my nightmares, it just happen to have been yours". Kokichi pouted and buried his face in the crook of the other's neck, letting out an exaggerated huff after a few seconds. Shuichi couldn't help but smile at the shorter's theatrics, knowing good and well they were nothing more than that- he really just wanted to show the detective he cared. "hey, remember what Momota-Kun said? the only people who should be apologizing are the Team Danganronpa staff?" 

"Momota-Chan can eat my ass" the muffled response came. "i know that's your job _buut-_ "

Shuichi couldn't help but laugh at the wild remark, a blush setting in "Kokichi come on!" he felt Kokichi snort laugh against his neck, tickling the sensitive skin and earning a yelp

"ha! Shumai's ticklish" he could just hear the wry smile on his face as his arms snaked around Shuichi's torso, face nuzzling deeper into the crook- teeth purposely exposed to graze the skin lightly. 

The sensation caused more choked on eeps and squeaks to slip from the taller's lips "K-kokichi- no don't! it's too early for that!" 

"Shuichi-chan's no fun~" the little leader whined, but thankfully obliged to the request with a small kiss, moving his head so his chin rested on Shuichi's shoulder. Shuichi reached up and ran a hand through the other's foggy midnight locks, fingers getting caught on the occasional knot in the unruly mop, but mostly threading through easily. 

He was thankful that everything was over- despite the dreams he had, there was no more heartbreak, no more magenta blood, _no more murder._ Everyone had been hurt by the game their former selves had signed them up for, but no one was dead, they were all healing- slowly, but it was progress. He was alive, and so was Kokichi- the one he loved the most, and the one who loved him the same. "hey Kichi-"

"Hmn~?"

"I love you"

"I love you too, Shu~"

**Author's Note:**

> didn't i tell ya it'd be sweet?


End file.
